


Dork

by kaydeefalls



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-28
Updated: 2003-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-14 04:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/pseuds/kaydeefalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah is a dork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dork

**Author's Note:**

> Improv fic for ContreLaMontre. At least three scenes, last word of each scene is first word of next, 90 minute time limit. And, just in case you're confused, all scenes are in chronological order except for the first one, which would be the last in a chronological sense.

"Dork," Dom says, cuffing Elijah lightly on the back of the head to wake him.

"Hey! Ow! Am not." Elijah glares up at him. Or tries to, anyway. His eyes are still a little unfocused in the who-what-when-why-how-where-am-I? between sleep and consciousness, and the glare is not so much a glare as a squint.

"Are too," Dom replies affably, plopping down onto the bed. "Fuck," he adds, then removes the affronting CD case from under his ass.

Elijah rubs at his eyes. Memo to self: falling asleep with your contact lenses in is not a good idea. "Am not. Why am I a dork? Hey, don't just toss my stuff around like that, asshole!" This in response to the CD case relocating itself with some force to bounce off the trailer wall, having been forcibly rejected from its former home on the bed (in the same approximate area as Dom's ass). "Hey, are you listening to me? I said don't!" when several more CDs and a mysterious pair of scissors meet the same fate.

"Your bed's a mess," Dom informs him, eyeing the forlorn scissors dubiously. "You could roll over and stab yourself in your sleep, or something."

"Haven't yet. Stop trying to redecorate my digs."

This solemn pronouncement is met with some snickering on Mr. Monaghan's part. "Digs?" A pillow connects solidly with his nose.

"Wanker. Why am I a dork?"

"Because," Dom announces, "you're sleeping. At one in the afternoon. Less than ten minutes before shooting starts again. On the messiest trailer bed on the planet. And still fully dressed as a hobbit."

Elijah glares at him again, and is pleased to note that it's really a glare this time. "Well, how else am I supposed to get any sleep around here?"

"Also," Dom continues, "you just attempted to use the word 'digs' in casual conversation."

"Because it would normally be used in formal conversation?"

"Watch it, you, or the scissors will stab you in your sleep."

They both stare at the scissors, which lie in the middle of the floor (on top of last week's script pages) and try to look innocent.

After a moment of contemplation, Elijah shakes his head, carefully not looking back at Dom. "Whatever. I'm still not a dork." He stands, brushes off his costume, and stalks out of the trailer. The door closes prissily behind him in a fit of feigned irritation.

Dom sighs, running a hand absently over the still-warm coverlet and noticing a crumpled Star Wars T-shirt under the pillow. His shoulders sag a little and his voice is rueful. "Yes, mate, you are."

*

"Are you another hobbit? I mean, you must be! I mean, well, we're all kind of hobbits, aren't we? Because this is hobbit training. But I thought other cast members would be here, too. Today at least. But I guess not, because I've only seen Astin and you, and you're another hobbit. Aren't you?"

Dom blinked a few times and felt a bit out of breath on the wide-eyed kid's behalf. "I. What? Oh. Yeah, I'm a hobbit."

The kid beamed. "Awesome! So am I! Elijah Wood," and he grasped Dom's hand firmly for half a second, then pulled away, coolly sizing Dom up behind the deceptively young-looking blue eyes.

"Dominic Monaghan," Dom remembered to say, then forced himself to look away. Too intense, those eyes. "So you're Frodo, then?"

"Yeah! And you're Merry, right? I remember because I hadn't heard of you before." Paired with the bright grin, Elijah's words didn't offend Dom at all. Weird. "You and Billy Boyd, he's Pippin, I hadn't heard of him either. But I know you now, right? And once this movie's made, we'll all be famous. Probably maybe. Man, this is gonna be so cool!"

Dom grinned. He glanced around the hotel lounge for a seat, finding one by the window. "Hey, how old are you, anyway?" he asked as they wandered over to the plush couch-loveseat-thing.

Elijah's eyes narrowed for a second. Then he laughed, sprawling across the couch. "Eighteen. Honest to goodness. And if you say I look twelve, I'll kick your ass."

"I believe you. No ass-kicking required. Oi, shove over, will you? This thing ought to seat at least two, and you're not exactly a big guy."

"Yeah, fuck you too," Elijah said amiably, but he did scoot over so that Dom could sit down.

"Wanker," Dom said comfortably, kicking Elijah's shins.

"Dork."

Dom raised an eyebrow. "Dork?"

Elijah nodded firmly. "Dork. Hey, cool hat, by the way."

"Um." Dom absentmindedly reached up to push it back and run a hand through his hair, then stopped halfway when he remembered. "Right. Thanks."

There was a brief silence while Elijah inspected the hat, leaning forward until he was practically breathing on the side of Dom's face. "Hey, you shaved your head?"

Dom tugged the hat down over his ears as far as it would go, gently swatting Elijah's inquisitive hand away. "Had to. For a part."

"That's so cool!" Elijah beamed at him. "Man, I wish I had the guts to do that. Talk about low maintenance. It takes me too damn long to get my hair to do what it's supposed to." He gestured to his own hair, which stuck out in all directions. "Makes me feel like a fucking girl sometimes, spending so long in front of the mirror."

"Nah, you're all right," Dom said, grinning. Elijah seemed like a nice kid, he decided.

Elijah took advantage of the unguarded moment to snatch the hat off.

"Fucker," Dom mumbled, his scalp finally bared for all to see. Bared, ha.

"Very cool," Elijah pronounced, giving the hat back. He smiled, almost wistfully. "Maybe someday..."

*

"Someday, I'll get used to this," Elijah groaned, flopping down on the sand. "Once I regain my will to live."

Dom glanced over. "You missed the towel," he pointed out helpfully, and was thanked with an incoherent moaning noise.

The waves crashed petulantly on the shore, in a sort of this-is-too-cold-and-grey-a-day-to-appreciate-us-properly kind of way. Not that Billy and Orlando weren't trying, floating around on their boards stubbornly in the silver-blue water. But it was too damn cold for Dom, and apparently Elijah had wiped out about twelve too many times. Nothing takes the fun out of surfing like realizing that your shoulder has become one massive bruise.

"Whagamuphump," Elijah mumbled, words muffled by sand.

Dom poked at his side. "Come again?"

Too tired to respond to the half-assed tickle attempt, Elijah just flopped over onto his back and repeated his question to the grey sky. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to stop getting wet sand on my nice dry towel." Dom glared at the part of Elijah that had made its sodden, sand-encrusted way onto the towel.

Elijah opened one eye to peer up at him. "You're such a neat freak." He propped himself up on one elbow and made a huge production out of dusting himself off.

"Hey, hey, hey, not on me!"

"Serves you right, neat freak."

Dom rolled his eyes. "Elijah, you're a dork."

"Ah, you know you love me." Apparently regaining his will to live, Elijah sat up cross-legged and leered into Dom's face. "Admit it."

"I certainly hope you're not implying that I am the sort of person who would fall in love with a dork," Dom scoffed, turning away, and waited for Elijah's comeback.

It didn't come. He looked back into Elijah's face.

"When did I mention anything about _falling_ in love?" Elijah finally asked in an odd voice.

Dom wasn't sure he'd even said that. Or if he had, why. Because, yeah, Elijah was just a dork, and Dom...

"Dom?"

A loud whooping sound from the ocean broke the awkward moment, and Dom turned to see what was going on. He jumped up. "Hey, look, Billy just caught one monster of a wave, check it out--!"

There was a gentle, persistent tug on his wrist, pulling him back down onto the sandy towel. Elijah gave him a calculating look, just enough for Dom to catch a flash of deceptively innocent blue eyes. "Dom, don't you ever shut up?"

"You're one to talk," Dom shot back, but the hand on his wrist wouldn't let him pull away.

Elijah gave him one long, lingering look, then grinned and let go. Connection broken. End of story.

"Oh, no you don't," Dom said, and kissed him. Salty lips met for the briefest of seconds, tongues sliding together for half a breath, touching lightly, then pulling away as Billy's enthusiastic voice shattered the unusual silence.

*

Silence on set is a very rare occurrence, and never lasts particularly long.

"Has anyone seen Elijah?" Peter shouts across the lot. "I need him in ten minutes."

"I'll look for him," Dom offers, and is already trotting off before Billy has the chance to give him one of those what-the-fuck-is-going-on-with-you looks he's been getting since their weekend surfing expedition.

Since the silence in the backseat of their car on the ride back, when Dom just stared out the window voicelessly and Elijah was so engrossed with his (lack of) nails that he didn't even try to take control of the radio.

Dom knows that Elijah's in his trailer, saw him slip away at the very beginning of lunch break. Kid looked like he hadn't slept in years.

Not kid.

Fucking hell.

The trailer's a disaster area, as usual. Dom doesn't understand how one person can somehow create such chaos in such a small space. Even the bed is covered with random junk. Well, random junk and Elijah.

Dom smiles. It's such a weird picture, this immaculately dressed hobbit out of some fairy tale snoring softly in this ridiculously messy, determinedly modern room. Everything is out of place, but it doesn't look wrong at all.

Too bad real life isn't that easy.

Dom crouches by the bed, resisting the urge to brush Elijah's hair (wig) out of his eyes. He already knows what will happen, as though the scene has already been played out. How he'll wake Elijah up and pretend that nothing's changed, the way they've been pretending all week. And Elijah will joke around and be immature as always, and they'll exchange friendly insults and be normal guy buddy-buddies. And maybe Dom will never actually know what Elijah is thinking, was thinking, behind those intentionally blank blue eyes, and he'll grin as though the not-knowing doesn't matter.

For a crazy second, he almost kisses Elijah's cheek -- but he doesn't. Instead, he cuffs him lightly on the back of the head to wake him, forcing the smile into his voice. "Dork."


End file.
